Chapter 100: The Memory Theft
The next morning, the mansion doorbell rang. No maid answered; Damian had sent most of them away, leaving only a few trusted staff, to facilitate Sienna’s "recovery" and easy access.
Evelyn opened the door. It wasn't Damian, but his Chief Secretary, Dave. Dave wore a black suit and a professional yet frigid smile.
“Good morning, Mrs. Green.”
Evelyn didn't let him in. “If you’re here with divorce papers, give them to me. If it’s anything else, get lost.”
Dave adjusted his glasses, completely unfazed by her insult. He pulled a car key from his pocket and offered it. “Mr. Green is waiting for you.”
“I’m not going.” Evelyn started to close the door.
A hand stopped the door from latching. “Mrs. Green, the Master says today’s schedule is vital. To salvage Omni Group’s reputation after the negative press, he needs you to play the role of a ‘loving couple revisiting old memories.’”
“I’m not interested in his theatrics.” Evelyn pushed the door hard.
“The Master also said,” Dave threatened, “that if you refuse, he wouldn’t mind escalating your current ‘detention’ into ‘coercive means.’ For example, cutting off all your communication, or… letting an ‘accident’ happen at Director Worth’s orphanage.”
Evelyn’s push froze. She stared at Dave, her chest heaving. Damian had changed. He used to resort to anger and violence; now he was using the people and things she cared about as a chokehold.
“The location,” Evelyn demanded.
“St. George High School.” Dave retrieved his hand, placing the key on the shoe cabinet. “It’s where you and the Master met. He says he wants to find your ‘original intent’ there.”
Original intent? Evelyn felt sick, almost vomiting. A man who had cheated for years and planned to give his legitimate child to his mistress dared to mention their beginning?
“Tell him I’ll be there.” Evelyn snatched the car key, her eyes icy. “But this is the last time.”
Evelyn had traveled the road to St. George High School countless times. Back then, the path felt like steps to heaven. She used to sit on Damian’s bicycle, holding his waist, smelling the faint soap scent of his uniform, believing it was forever. Now, she gripped the steering wheel alone, watching the scenery pass. Every view was like a rusted blade cutting into her nerves.
She parked the car in the school lot. Since it was the weekend, the school was quiet, with only the wind rustling the leaves. Evelyn stepped out, took a deep breath of the grassy air, and suppressed the nausea. She touched the scar on her arm, then gently pressed her lower abdomen—her only source of courage.
End this now, Evelyn, she told herself.
She followed the coordinates Dave sent, walking toward the sports field. A huge oak tree stood there. Eight years ago, Damian had knelt under that tree, proposing to her in front of the entire school, vowing eternal love.
Evelyn walked through the corridor, her steps heavy. Turning the corner, the green field came into view. The oak tree still swayed in the breeze.
Damian stood under the tree, wearing an ill-fitting St. George’s High uniform. The dark blue vest strained across his chest, and his tie was slightly crooked. Damian Green, the CEO of Omni Group, looked like a pathetic mime, his expression sickeningly devout.
He was looking down, carefully cupping the face of the woman in his arms, his eyes filled with a deep, almost drowning affection that Evelyn hadn’t seen in years.
“Evelyn… my darling…” Carried by the wind, Evelyn heard his long-forgotten, tender tone.
But the name was for another woman. That woman wore the girls' school uniform: a white shirt slightly open, a plaid skirt showing long, straight legs. She wore a low baseball cap, her long hair hiding most of her face. From behind, she looked exactly like eighteen-year-old Evelyn.
Damian seemed completely lost in his delusion. He buried his head in the woman's neck, inhaling deeply, searching for a dead past in her body. Evelyn’s stomach churned—the nausea was a hundred times worse than morning sickness.
Just then, the woman moved. She seemed to sense Evelyn’s gaze. She slightly tilted her head, resting her chin on Damian’s shoulder, and pushed up the cap’s brim.
Her face was revealed. It was Sienna.
There was no surprise, no shame. Sienna locked eyes with Evelyn’s pale face from across the field. Her lips curled into a slow, utterly provocative, vicious smile. The smile was the gloat of a winner, saying, Look, even your most precious memory is mine now.
Then, Sienna did something that made the blood freeze in Evelyn’s veins. She wrapped her arms around Damian’s neck, tilted her head back, and turned the tender embrace into a deep, sensual, possessive kiss.
“Damian, love me…” Sienna mimicked Evelyn’s tone, intentionally raising her voice.
Damian shuddered. He clearly took this as Evelyn’s response. He didn’t push her away. Instead, he gripped the back of Sienna’s head, deepening the kiss.
“I love you, Evelyn, I only love you…” Damian passionately whispered, right there in the open, on their sacred school grounds, holding his mistress and using his wife’s name, desecrating their one pure memory.
The scene was grotesque, perverse, and infinitely cruel. Evelyn watched them intertwined under the oak tree—the place where he had proposed.
“Ugh…” A powerful, physical revulsion rushed up her throat.
Evelyn clamped a hand over her mouth, her other hand fiercely pressing against her spasming abdomen. Dizziness washed over her. The scene blurred and doubled. All the sweet memories of the past eight years—him waiting for her under the tree, him holding an umbrella in the rain, his tearful vows at their wedding—turned into sharp fragments, violently swirling with the vile scene before her.
It hurt. Not just heartbreak; a sharp, dropping pain in her stomach.
“No… Baby…” Evelyn leaned against the rough brick wall, slowly sliding down until she was crouched on the ground. Cold sweat instantly soaked her back. She gasped for air, trying to fight the suffocating feeling.
Her vision blurred. Tears streamed uncontrollably, hitting the dusty concrete and quickly staining it. She thought she was strong enough, thought her heart was already dead. But this knife cut too deep.
Damian wasn't just killing their present; he was digging up their past, clothing the woman who ruined her life in it to satisfy his perverted, self-deceiving affection.
It was too dirty. Everything here was too dirty.
Evelyn dug her nails into the wall cracks, drawing blood, but she felt no pain.
“Damian…” She whispered his name in her mind, one last time.
“We can never go back.”
The searing pain and dizziness made Evelyn’s vision tunnel, and her body went limp. Just before she completely lost consciousness, a strong pair of arms caught her.
Evelyn struggled to open her eyes and saw a sharply defined face.
It was Ryan. Why was he here?